The Boston Massacre
by Scarlett Hyde
Summary: The date is March 5th, and it's a cold snowy night. But it's anything from silent as shots ring out on King's Street. The British have fired on unarmed citizens. And as per fricking usual, the Templars are pulling the strings. Great. (In big need of rewrite)


I walk to the store with a newly named Connor, and wait outside.

He comes back out, but before he does I hear a colonist yelling, "Who stands in Parliament for Boston? For New York? For Virginia? No one! But Old Sarum is represented. And Newport and Newtown. Seaford and Saltash. The list goes on. Rotten boroughs one and all. What is become of the rights of Englishmen? Are we not entitled to have a say in our governance? Who are they to silence our voices? To insist we be represented by strangers? Have you forgotten the Stamp Act and how we responded?"

He continues after a pause.

"We spoke up! We resisted! So they stood down! We were heard and it was repealed! But now... Now too many are silent. Or worse - they excuse it! The taxes are not so high, they say. The money is put to good use, they say. Fie, I say! Fie we should ALL say! Though the taxes may be small, they were enacted and enforced without our consent. As to their use? They pay governors and judges! And if it's Britain who pays them, it's Britain whom they are beholden, not us! Do none see the danger here?"

"Huh. Looks like trouble is about to erupt, big time," I mutter as Connor walks out, then I see a young, black haired girl running towards us.

An angry voice yells after her, "Get back here you little brat!"

I watch as she runs into Connor then grunts and falls back. She looks up at Connor, scared, as the man roughly grabs her.

"You little hunk of trash!" he yells as he smacks her in the back of the head and begins to drag her away until she bites his hand and gets hit. She falls over then she looks at the man in tears, shaking as her face bleeds.

I snarl at the man, "Oi! The hell is your damn problem, bastard?"

Connor bends down beside the girl, trying to clean the blood off.

The kid is shaking harshly as she looks at him teary eyed as the man growls, "This little brat broke out of the orphanage! She jumped off the freaking roof!"

I smack him across the face, my cat claws out. "Watch your tone with me! I could end your life so quick it ain't EVEN funny."

The man stumbles back and glares at me.

He raises his arm to hit back but the kid tackles his legs. She knocks him over and starts punching him.

I watch, somewhat amused, then I notice a dark haired British soldier running over, musket in hand.

"Bollocks!" I hiss under my breath as he goes to pull the girl off.

I tackle him, causing him to drop to musket, and wrestle with him on the frozen ground.

He grunts as he hits the ground, and then he struggles to gain the upper hand. "Oi! Would you get off?!" he yells.

I refuse to give in, and he rolls until he ends up pinning me down by sitting on top of me.

"Erg, get off me, you damn Tory!" I snarl, breath clouding in the cold snowy evening.

He shakes his head and says, "I refuse to! Besides, you're the one who tackled me!"

He glares down at me as I squirm under him. I go to punch his jaw, but he grabs my fist in mid swing and shakes his head.

"You don't punch a soldier," he scolds, his sharp blue eyes in stark contrast with his saggy black hair as he gives me a warning look.

"Watch me!" I snarl and swing with my other arm.

He grabs my other fist and pins my arms down. "Would you stop fighting me, for God's sake?!"

I hiss in anger, "Kiss my ass, Bloody Back!"

"Girls shouldn't cuss.

"To hell with that shite! I do what I damn please!"

"Don't make me take you in. You can be arrested for talking back to a soldier."

"Ha ha ha… Bite me, bastard!"

"Hey, I don't want to fight you!"

"Then why you still on me, dipshit?"

"If I get off will you stop trying to hit me… and stop cussing?"

"Per'aps to the first and a _hell no_ to the second."

"Ugh, fair enough."

Then he gets off and looks at me, breathing heavily.

I get to my feet, picking myself off the frozen and snow covered ground. I then dust myself off as the soldier picks his musket back up.

After he's done that he sighs and rubs the back of his neck.

"Sorry about pinning you," he apologizes in a deep, slightly rough, British accent.

I make a sound that's a mix between a snort and a grunt. "Well screw me eight ways from the North Pole, a polite redcoat. Imagine that," I mutter, then raise my voice and say, "I guess I'm sorry for tackling you and trying to punch you. I guess. But I sure as Hell ain't sorry for cussing."

The redcoat smiles ever so slightly. "Thanks and um."

He offers his hand to me for a hand shake.

"I'm Bruce," he says as another smile ghosts his lips.

I look at his hand skeptically, glancing up towards his face, then I take his hand.

"Scarlett. My friends call me Scar. At least they would if I had any friends," I say, muttering the last part firmly shaking his hand, which is surprisingly warm for the cold air. Then I wonder why he doesn't have gloves on.

He gasps, breath billowing. "Wow, that's a really interesting name," he says.

"Gee… thanks."

"But I like it," he adds, smiling at me.

"Huh, thanks," I say, letting go of his hand as some colonists run past us towards King's Street.

Bruce watches them run past, then turns back to me.

I watch the colonists run past, then decide to go see what all the fuss is about.

"Well, I guess I'd better go," I say, turning away.

Bruce grabs my arm and shakes his head.

"Miss Scarlett, you don't want to go over there," he warns, glancing towards the way I was turning.

"Why not? And just call me Scarlett," I say.

Bruce says, "Some citizens are yelling at some His Majesty's soldiers to go back to England and honestly, I don't think you want to be there. A girl like yourself-"

"I can handle myself, thank you, SIR. Plus I would very much like to see this," I interrupt, pulling away, then I call to Connor, who is for some reason hugging the girl, "Oi! Connor! We're leaving!"

Bruce sighs as Connor helps the girl up.

"At least let me go with you," Bruce says, stepping closer to me.

"What? No, you aren't coming," I say to Bruce as jab a finger in his direction, but he won't back down.

"You have no right to order a soldier around," he points, out stepping closer, but I ignore him as I turn and walk towards King's street, Connor and the girl, who I believe is Aurora, in tow.

As we walk through the streets I see colonists and soldiers shoving each other into walls and soldiers holding colonists back with muskets.

Bruce comes after me, musket in hand, trotting a little to catch up.

I turn around and he halts a few feet away from me.

"Stop following us like some lost mutt. Go help your fellow soldier there," I growl, pointing to a soldier who is being pinning against the wall by two patriots. No matter how hard he struggles, he can't get free as the two pin his arms to the wall above his head.

Bruce sighs and shakes his head.

"He's fine, they aren't hurting him," he says.

I stare at him, not quite believing what I just heard. "What? Dude, you need to help him! They may not be hurting him now, but they will!" I yell as the pinned soldier yells at the two pinning him, "L-Let me go!" The two snarl back, "Make us, lobster!"

Bruce groans and goes to help him.

I look at the other two.

"Ok you two, let's book it before he comes back," I say.

I watch as more and more scuffles break out.

I hear one man yell, "Come on! We're headed to the Custom's house to throw some quips at the lobsters!"

Walking past Achilles, who addresses Connor and questions him on the female, I walk to the town house where a large crowd has gathered.

The Old Man is just too slow.

Like a sleep-drunk turtle in molasses.

I need to know what's going on NOW.

I watch as an officer, Thomas Preston, tries to calm the angry colonists.

I sigh in relief.

Preston's a reasonable man who will avoid bloodshed if at all possible.

"I say again: disperse! Congregating in this manner is forbidden!" he calls to the crowd.

One man yells back, "We're not going anywhere, bug!"

"Oi! Why don't you go back to England?!" another yells.

Preston yells again, trying his best to avoid further conflict, "No good can come of this chaos! Return to your homes and all will be forgiven!"

"Never!"

"Not until you've answered for your crimes!"

"You're right cowards, pointing guns at unarmed folk!"

"You don't scare us!"

"We ain't afraid!"

I watch as the tension grows, and the soldiers get gradually more and more trigger happy and anxious.

Achilles is saying something to Connor, but I tune it out as I lock eyes with Preston, slowly shaking my head.

He looks quite agitated as he does his best to calm the furious colonists as they mercilessly tease the redcoat group.

Men start to throw snowballs and oyster shells at the soldiers.

"Go back to England!"

I watch as the soldiers get pelted with snow, ice, rocks, shells, and insults. I scan the redcoat group.

There's Privates William Wemms, John Carroll, William McCauley, William Warren, Hugh White, and James Hartigan, and three others I do not know.

I groan as I recognize Private Hugh Montgomery and Matthew Kilroy, as both are known to be a bit trigger happy and pugnacious, Kilroy who I have heard say he would not miss an opportunity to fire on the citizens.

Suddenly a shot rings out in the cold night air.

Everything seems to freeze, the Montgomery yells angrily, "Damn you, fire!"

The scene turns into utter chaos as guns go off, killing three instantly and wounding many others. My eyes widen as a redcoat, Kilroy, levels his musket at me.

From out of seemingly nowhere, Bruce yells, "GET DOWN!" as he tackles me.

I grunt as I crash into the frozen ground as the shot skims over both our heads.

"What the? Bruce?!" I yell, looking up at the soldier.

Preston yells at his men, who have just shot into an unarmed crowd, "Stop firing! Stop!"

Bruce is gasping and he looks at me.

"You ok?" he asks, making sure I'm are not bleeding.

"I'm fine!" I yell, swatting his hand away, then rocket to my feet and yell at the redcoats, "Damn you all! Look what you did! This is murder!" I shake my head disgusted as my rage flares and my right eye turns brown with a red rim around the pupil.

I glare at Montgomery.

"You'll regret this day! It's your fault all these people died! We will never forget this!" I snarl then yell at Preston, "I hope your men receive the punishment they deserve for murder! A life for a life!"

The soldiers begin to exchange looks as they realize what they've just done.

"My God, she's right! We're dead men!" one yells to the others.

Preston yells at his men, "Damn it! I gave no order to fire! I even instructed to keep your guns unloaded!"

I snarl, "And does it matter, Preston?! People are still dead, and your soldiers, soldiers who are under YOUR command, are the killers! Which makes you just as guilty!"

Preston looks at me, and I know that he knows, despite being little more than a casual acquaintance, I have a habit to lose my head when I'm angry.

I then try to calm down.

Before I jump to conclusions I should know the facts.

Then I notice Haythem standing off to the side with one of the soldiers, and I watch him point up to one of the roof tops.

I follow his finger, and let loose a string of profanity.

He's pointing at Connor, who disappears briefly to resurface near the girl who is at the bottom of the building.

"Shite!" I hiss as Haythem then turns and leaves. I then know the Templars probably had something to do with it.

Preston turn back to his men, ignoring my profanity spout, and yells, "Why did you fire!?"

"Sir, we heard the word fire and we thought it came from you!" one speaks up.

"I did no such thing! To give the order to fire on unarmed men would not make me an officer! Why in hellfire would I give an order of such content!?" he roars, then I notice he's holding his arm as blood drips.

He must have gotten hit.

I look at Bruce who is beside the new girl as she kneels beside a man who got hit.

"Oi! Connor get her outta here!" I yell, and Connor calls her back from where he stands, turning to run as the guards begin to gather and rush towards him.

I walk over and kneel beside Bruce as I look the man over.

The kid shakes her head. "No, I want to help him."

"Kid, this is no time to play hero! Get out of here!"

Flashing a kicked puppy lock at me, she bolts off with Connor and the two disappear.

Bruce looks at the man.

"He got shot in the stomach...does not look too bad. If we remove the bullet and wrap up the wound he has a chance at recovering."

I shake my head.

"No. People do not survive getting shot in the belly," I say as people begin to come forward to retrieve the dead and wounded.

The soldiers, probably thinking the colonists about to attack, reload and aim once again.

Preston leaps forwards and knocks the muzzles up with his good arm.

"Damn you don't fire!"

I let the man's family take him then I stand beside Bruce.

Someone runs up to Preston and says, "There's about 4-5,000 people in the next street, and they plan to murder you and all your men."

Preston's eyes go wide as the other soldiers exchange scared glances.

"They're going to kill us!?" one of the men I don't know squeaks, terror in his eyes.

Preston says, "It's not safe here. We'd better leave, right now."

The soldiers nod, and Preston and the others flee the scene.

Bruce grabs my arm and looks down at me as he starts moving.

"You're coming with us," he says, beginning to drag me with them to the main-guard.

"Like hell I am!" I snarl, trying to pull away but he is stronger.

Bruce grips my arm harder and shakes his head. "I'm sorry Scarlett, but you have to come with me!"

"What?! Why the hell- PUT ME DOWN JACKASS!"

I yell the last part as Bruce throws me over his shoulder and runs after the others.

"Oi! You deaf? Let me go!" I say as Bruce runs.

I huff but give up as Bruce halts with the others after they've gotten to safety. Not easy considering the citizens are calling for each other to arm themselves.

I wriggle out of his grip and land on my feet.

Preston turns and looks at me, eyes wide.

"Scarlett? What are you doing here?" he asks.

"This shit-for-brains kinda took me against my will," I growl, elbowing Bruce in the gut.

"Ok listen, this is very important. What exactly did you see happen? Our lives my very well depend on it," Preston asks, and all eyes go to me.

"Why are you asking me? I just said I hoped all of your men were killed," I mutter, causing some of the men to tremble, and not from the cold.

"Because, I know that you were furious at the first of the killings, but I also know that you tell the truth, despite what others think. Plus, I think you have calmed down some," he says, and I look at him, then sigh.

I feel Bruce rub my back softly after some hesitation.

I turn my head up at him slowly, stare at him for a few seconds with a _wtf are you doing_ look, and then narrow my eyes.

Bruce looks at me with a warm caring look as he rubs my back more.

"Oi! Romeo! Hate to break it to you, but our lives are on the line here. Flirt later," one soldier, James, snaps, but I can see fear in his eyes, in all their eyes. For if they are seen as murderers of three, possibly more, unarmed men, they will get the death penalty.

"Scarlett, what did you see?" Preston asks again.

I sigh.

"I saw the citizens gathering around the group here, and I saw you trying to tell them to go home."

"Y'all were nervous, I could tell. Preston, I know you well enough to understand you would never order your troops to fire on unarmed men. Mostly unarmed anyway. But the colonists started to throw stuff like rocks, snowballs, ice, and insults, which certainly did not help matters. Then I heard a shot fired, but it did not come from any of you. Regardless, Montgomery decided to take matters into his own hands and HE is the one that shouted, "Damn you, fire" and he shot and killed a black sailor. He fired the first shot into the crowd."

"Montgomery!" Preston yells, anger in his voice.

"Sir, I was attacked!" Montgomery yells in protest.

"So you fire into a crowd of unarmed civilians? Oh real nobel," I growl.

He goes silent, unable to respond.

I lower my voice.

"You're a murderer in the eyes of the colonists' eyes, for you killed a man. I saw you do it."

I glare at Kilroy, who flinches under my icy stare.

"And you sir also killed someone, I saw you do it. And then after you reloaded, aimed at my head. Had Bruce not tackled me down, I would not be standing here," I growl.

A look of horror comes over his face, and he looks down.

"You did what?!" Preston yells.

"Sir, we killed in self-defense! They were going to try and kill us!" one of the three Williams says.

Private Hugh White nods.

"Aye. I was standing guard alone when a crowd starts to threaten me. They were going to carry me from my post and murder me!" he yells, shaking.

I groan.

"Well, in that case, it was self-defense. But YOU didn't personally kill anyone. I saw Montgomery and Kilroy personally kill civilians."

"They'll give us all the death sentence!" White yells, eyes wide.

"Not if you get the right people to defend you and not if you get the right witnesses. I saw everything. Preston never ordered y'all to fire, and Montgomery and Kilroy are the only killers I saw of. The rest of you are innocent, at least of murder, in my eyes. If I saw it, chances are someone else did too. All but Montgomery and Kilroy have a good chance at living... but the two I named. You're gonna need a miracle," I say, and then someone runs up to us.

"Captain Thomas Preston?" he asks.

Preston nods slowly.

"Yes, what is it?"

"You, along with the following Privates: William Wemms, John Carroll, William McCauley, William Warren, Hugh White, James Hartigan, Hugh Montgomery and Matthew Kilroy, have warrants for your arrest."

Preston sighs.

"Well, I'm turning myself in... I suggest you do the same," he says to his men, then walks to do as he said.

The other, reluctantly, go with him. All except John, who backs up shaking his head.

"John, I suggest you turn yourself in. Believe it or not, you will be safer. The colonists know you were involved. They will stop at nothing to kill you. I can go with you there if you like so you're not attacked."

He glances at me, shaking.

"Come one John," I say, and tug his arm.

He makes a small noise, almost like a whine, and then follows.

I walk to the jail house.

I pat his shoulder.

"Hey, it's ok. You'll be fine."

He shakes his head.

"I'm a monster."

"No, you didn't kill anyone. It was in self-defense."

"They were unarmed," he says, looking at his feet.

"Look, what's done is done."

Tears start to form in his eyes.

"I killed innocent people."

I put my hand on his shoulder.

"No, your shot didn't kill anyone. Don't worry."

He looks at me as tears roll down his face.

"It could have."

"But it didn't," I say as someone walks up to John and takes him to a cell.

"Have faith my friend! It's not over yet!" I call, then turn to Bruce.

"Well, I'm going to the Green Dragon Tavern. Do... do you wanna come? I'll buy you an ale. After all, you did save my life," I offer, a slight smile on my face.

"That sounds... nice. I'll take you up on that offer," he says.

I walk out the door and head towards the Tavern as Bruce follows.

I mutter under my breath, "I hope they get a fair trial, for if not, all hell is gonna break loose."

 **AN**

 _Well, you will not believe how much research I did to try to get the event as accurate as I could._

 _Even read Thomas Preston's personal account of the thing._

 _There's actually a book, Fifth of March, which deals with Kilroy and the aftermath. Good read._

 _But anyway, let me know what you thought!_

 _And yay for first story on here!_


End file.
